Easter roundup

Easter 1981

My, but I am bad at blogging lately. To catch up, here's the best friend of lazy bloggers everywhere (followed closely by the every-popular all-photo post): bullet points!

• Last weekend were the benefit shows Jeff Tweedy plays each year at the Vic in Chicago. Always a great time, with friends coming from afar, and the chance request songs - provided you're in line early enough. This year I opted for new and old: "Art of Almost" and "Watch Me Fall." I was also able to lend a hand in the collection of requests on Saturday, a privilege that I did not abuse. What do you take me for? The weekend also included a trip to Hot Doug's. Oh, Hot Doug's.
• The excavation of old photos and other artifacts at my parents' house continues. I was in Kenosha for Easter, and today's haul included a trove of early 1940's birthday, Valentine, Christmas, and (appropriately) Easter cards received by my mother. They've survived over sixty years in bright, primary color. I didn't bring any home with me, but at some point I'd expect a showcase of the best cards to appear here.
• I'm mulling sabbatical destinations. Final contenders include the Greek Islands and Argentina. Greece beckons me a little louder, but god, I can't even read the alphabet without confusing it with Russian. Not that I'm a fluent speaker of Spanish by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to my Greek skills I might as well be. I think the trip, whatever it is, will probably take place next spring. Meanwhile, a jaunt to Colorado is in the works for this summer. I still have my eye on those last four U.S. states, too. 
• Netflix has been a blessing and a curse in terms of letting me catch the entire run of now-finished TV shows. Shows I never watched while they were on, that is. In the past five or six years I've worked my way through Buffy (that took over a year), Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, and The Wire. Right now I'm deep into Season 4 of The West Wing. No spoilers!

The best soy latte that you ever had

It happened again last week!  The yearly 24-hour Letters to Santa benefit at Second City, featuring all manner of great musicians, wacky comedy, dance routines, field trips, interviews, and  - this year - a little wrestling.  Here's an incomplete photo retrospective:

6:30 p.m.: The 24 hours didn't officially begin until 7:00 p.m., but we got a bonus this year.  These guys came out to play a selection of heartfelt tunes they "wrote" ... which turned out to be four songs by Train.  A painfully hilarious start to the evening.

10:00-ish: I didn't take any pictures during Jeff Tweedy's annual set, but this is his guitar, Bob.

11:01 p.m.: Steve Albini interviews Andrew Mason, CEO of Groupon.  Later Andrew played piano for a rollicking set of Billy Joel covers.

12:00 a.m.: J.C. Brooks and the Uptown Sound take the stage and inspire a room full of comedians and comedy fans to shake their groove things.

2:17 a.m.: Joan of Arc plays, loudly

2:42 a.m.: Human caterpillar!

5:03 a.m.: Jeff Parker treats us to some dreamy guitar

5:38 a.m.: TJ tells the instant classic "101 chairs walk into a bar" joke.  For about twenty minutes.

7:07 a.m.: The babies and children come out to don various hats, eat muffins, and charm us all

7:36 a.m.: Jon Langford and Sally Timms drop by to sing some songs and shake a little maraca

9:25 a.m.: Actors are challenged to consume various food items, including a cup of scrambled eggs and a huge muffin, during a scene

1:00 p.m.: Former WWE wrestler Colt Cabana performs his finishing move on one of the actors, not to be let up until he names every U.S. president in order ... and predicts the next six

1:14 p.m.: Robbie Fulks and Gerald Dowd play a poignant "Dancing Queen"

2:59 p.m.: Bill Callahan nearly lulls me to sleep, through no fault of his own

4:44 p.m.: Improv!

5:04 p.m.: Our table.  Clockwise: Starbucks peppermint mocha, napkin, Second City menus, Bible, Boston Market fountain drink, trail mix, brownie wrapper, gum wrapper, broken hair clip

5:18 p.m.: The Blisters rock us for the eighth straight year

And that's the last picture I took.  Things finished up at 7:00 p.m. with the annual game of audience-participation freeze tag and an onstage reprisal of our second choreographed dance routine, "Magpie."  The event raised nearly $100,000 for charity.

Viva la benefit!

See also:
Letters to Santa 2009

Letters to Santa 2008

Letters to Santa 2007

Letters to Santa 2006

Letters to Santa 2005

Name me a song that everybody knows

Another post, another concert or two.  Over the weekend I visited the always wonderful (and this time cold and rainy) Chicago for a pair of Jeff Tweedy solo performances to benefit a youth scholarship fund.  I'm no stranger to these shows; this was my fourth year in attendance.  Still, I realize I can never predict the twists and turns each evening may take.

It's a well-established tradition now that the first thirty or so people in line each night get to pick the setlists for these concerts.  This leads to an eclectic group of songs: a mixture of the obscure b-sides Jeff always teases the crowd about, side project and former-band tunes, plenty of covers, and a few favorite staples.  We heard "Monkey Mess," a song written years ago by Jeff with his son's preschool class.  "Fake Plastic Trees," sounding ever more polished.  A new acoustic arrangement of "Poor Places."  A verse or two of a song popularized by Elvis Presley, "A Fool Such as I." The always-beautiful "More Like the Moon," with a slight lyrical variation that would only be noticed by a nerd such as I.   A brand new song Jeff wrote for Mavis Staples with a chorus of "You're not alone."  (That one wasn't a request, exactly, but came when an audience member asked Jeff what he would like to play.)  The song that surprised me most of all was "Shakin' Sugar," a Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-era outtake.  I would have never requested it, assuming it had no chance ... but I'm glad someone did.  And I'm certainly glad I was wrong.    

Impressing me most this year was the attention Jeff paid to playing all of the requests.  In the past, as far as I can recall, there have always been songs nixed or omitted, or alternate requests solicited.  Although one repeat song from Night 1 was not played on Night 2, I don't think anybody's choice was skipped this year.  Given how deep people dug for their requests, that's pretty remarkable.  My own request on Night 2 was a choice between two songs: either "Ashes of American Flags" from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, or "Single Ladies" by Beyoncé.  I'm pretty sure I expected Jeff to pick the former, but instead we were treated to a mostly spoken-word, entirely hilarious dramatic reading of "Single Ladies" in full.  Oh goodness.  You'd be surprised by how many different inflections can be put on the line "Don't be mad once you see that he want it."      

Concerts weren't the only thing going on in the city over the weekend, of course.  There's also this holiday called St. Patrick's Day, and Chicago is kind of into it.  My companions and I visited the green Chicago River, and I bought a shamrock lei from one of the many vendors in the Loop.  (Two for $1.00 if they can't get them untangled!)  We also enjoyed a delicious dim sum brunch on Sunday, with bubble tea for dessert.  I should get down to Chicago for a weekend more often than I do, really.  Good thing I have two more on the calendar within the next month and a half.  Next time, it should truly be spring.

Also see:
2009 (sort of)
2007

Meet me here at dawn

Second City 24-hour Letters to Santa Benefit, year seven!  December 15th-16th from 6 p.m. - 6 p.m.  Here's the annual incomplete timeline:

7:40 p.m.: Jeff Tweedy sings "Remember the Mountain Bed" to the super-awesome Tami Sagher.  He's playing a lovely Kel Kroydon guitar with peacocks on it.

9:53 p.m.: There is improv.

10:31 p.m.: Gerald Dowd and Robbie Fulks.  Robbie's performance of the 2009 Rap of the Dead was amazing, as it is every year I've gotten to see it.

12:41 a.m.: Horatio Sanz and Matt Walsh from UCB, joined by TJ.

1:48 a.m.: Slow-motion reenactment of one minute from the greatest rock concert ever.

3:24 a.m.: Everyone joins the Flash Mob Marching Band, marching around the third floor of Piper's Alley

3:39 a.m.: More improv.  I just remember that this woman was supposed to be flying.

6:13 a.m.: Bonnie "Prince" Billy plays an enchanting early-morning set.

8:26 a.m.: The babies (and children) perform a scene together.

9:00 a.m.: It's a pyramid of comedy!  And a stray baby left in the background.

10:12 a.m.: Town Parade, cut short this year.  We got the professions, but no scene!  I was looking forward to seeing the town cult enthusiast in action.

11:14 a.m.: More improv.

12:24 p.m.: Nina Nastasia (and some dry ice in the background).

1:59 p.m.: Mountain Goats.  (That Starbucks cup saw some action.)

3:02 p.m.: Bear attack.

3:54 p.m.: Champagne in honor of Second City's 50th anniversary joins the empty Red Bull and Starbucks containers on our table.  Not pictured: 5 Hour Energy vial, free cheesecake.

4:36 p.m.: The Blisters.  It was their seventh year at the benefit, too.

And that took us nearly to the end.  All of the 24-hour people joined the comedians (and John Darnielle) on stage for the last twenty minutes for the traditional game of freeze tag, then two minutes of dancing, and it was over for another year.  Weirdly jumbled memories of Anne Frank and Jesus making out in heaven, chefs who are turned on by shrimp, and guys who communicate with their fathers via hobo symbols will tide me over until 2010.

The next night, Sooz and I went to see Andrew Bird's final Gezelligheid show at the Fourth Presbyterian Church.  The church looked amazing.  Ryan did an excellent job with the lights, which combined with the music to create a unique atmosphere.  I enjoyed hearing much of Andrew's lesser-played instrumental material, as well as some choice covers like Cass McCombs's "Meet Me Here at Dawn."  With the snow outside and coziness inside, my Christmas spirit was officially boosted.

There's much to be thankful for this holiday season, and I love spending so much time with friends.  After more social activities Friday night and Saturday afternoon, though, I'll admit that I'm thankful for the chance to relax at home tonight with some Christmas cookies, Christmas music, and a huge stack of books.

Also see:
Letters to Santa 2008
Letters to Santa 2007
Letters to Santa 2006
Letters to Santa 2005

My heart tonight's in Woolloomooloo

Ah, St. Patrick's Day. Not being of Irish descent - nor a big beer drinker - it's never been a particularly significant day for me. I went to elementary school with plenty of Irish kids, and was always a little jealous of their "Kiss Me I'm Irish!" buttons and head-to-toe green garb. After all, we didn't have a holiday that made everyone pay attention to me for being Greek, or Italian, or Slovak.

Still, I've had some quality times on St. Patrick's Day. Mostly unrelated to the fact that they happened to occur on St. Patrick's Day. Sophomore year of college, March 17th fell during spring break. I was with friends in Panama City Beach, Florida. It sounds like a recipe for debauchery, but I just remember a day of sun and relaxation on the beach. (I'm fairly certain Club La Vela was a different night.)

Last year, I was in Sydney. Paul and I spent all day in the Blue Mountains. We saw aboriginal rock carvings and enormous spiders, tramped through the bush, and rode the world's steepest inclined railway. That evening we dined with a fellow traveler (and Knuffle Bunny), ferried back across the harbour to North Sydney with the lights of the Opera House shining in the distance, and walked to a neighborhood convenience store for green snacks and Guinness. That was a good day. And I consider it a personal challenge to top it sometime in the future. I have faith in the luck of the Irish.